It was a typical Sunday evening. My whole family, consisting of my mother, father, and five older brothers, were gathered around the television watching one of our favorite shows, The X Factor. Up until now, I hadn't really been paying attention. My mind had been wandering, thinking about the madness of my life at the moment. My eldest brother, Aidan, had just proposed to his girlfriend, Caitriona, and would be moving off the family farm soon. Finn and Cormac, my second and third eldest brothers, had graduated from secondary school, but stayed at home to help my dad with the farm, instead of going to the Uni. Although the three eldest had skipped going to the Uni, Patrick, my fourth eldest brother had applied to the University of Dublin, which Dad wasn't pleased about. In fact, he almost kicked Patrick out for even asking to attend.
"Darcy," my twin brother Rory said, interrupting my thoughts, "He's our age."
My mind returned to the X Factor as a blonde boy called Niall Horan performed. He wasn't the best, but after watching 6 series of this show, I know what Simon Cowell's advice could do to a singer. About a minute into Niall's performance, Simon cut him off. My mind floated off again, sure it wouldn't be for another two years but, would Dad let me move to the States and become a dancer? I mean, he barely let Patrick go to Dublin and that was only a few hours away. Sure, it'd be expensive, but we've managed to pay for my dance classes since I was two and those weren't the cheapest either. Maybe, with the money from babysitting the Finnegans all those years, I'd have enough to pay for the ticket myself. And once I got there, I could get a job right? I mean, Juilliard was in New York right? I'm pretty sure they have many jobs there.
"Phew," Rory said, "Thank God for Katy Perry."
"What?" I asked in reply.
"Katy Perry, the singer. She let him through."
"Oh, right."
"Darce, are you alright?"
"I'm just a little tired. I'm going to head upstairs. Goodnight everybody."
"Darcy Grace. Don't you go to bed without giving your Dad a kiss."
"Goodnight, Daddy." I kissed him on his scruffy cheeks, "See you in the morning."
"He's never going to let me go to the States." I thought "He doesn't even let me go upstairs."
When I was a little girl, around five or six, a tan, beautiful ballerina came to my
dance school. Her black hair, large dark eyes, and freckles made her look so mature and determined. Never in my life did I think I was going to end out just like her. I examined my features in the mirror. I looked at my hair, for what I was named for. My mom had always told me when was born, I had come out of her body with a head full of dark hair, therefore I was named Darcy- the dark haired one. My hair was also the reason I'd always felt so weird at school, all the other girls ha light hair, so pretty and thin and perfect. But mine was just a dark thick mess. I'd always hated my hair, until this very moment and I realized, it had made me look like my role model, the dark haired ballerina. Sure, I never talked to her, but I watched her dance, and when she danced, she changed a little girl's future. Soon, I was in more dance classes than I had time for. Ballet, pointe, modern, jazz, because I heard the ballerina say that she had done all dance classes that were offered to her as a child. A few years later, I was now thirteen and had to help run toddler ballet to help pay for my dance classes. Now, that little girl who had fell in love with dance was sixteen, and that ballerina had finally talked to her. She told me that she was from New York, graduated from Juilliard, and that I had showed Juilliard potential, and if I wanted more information that I should give her a call, and then the beautiful ballerina gave me her phone number. Now, I just needed to tell my dad.
